Fanfic: Two Truths and a Lie [Julie]

It was brutal. Sand, dirt, flecks of metal infiltrated my every pore and scratched me from within. Taste of earth lingered in my mouth as I swallowed dry air through the worn scrap of black muslin cloth that hid my face. My chest rose rapidly as shallow breaths entered my haggard body, puffs of sand danced in front of my eyes. I shut my lips stained with oxidized blood. Slowly, I picked up the M107 LRSR .50 calibers lying by my foot, quietly making my way to the edge of the crates.

What the hell am I doing here echoed in my mind as I crouched low, waiting for the prey. I was in some forsaken warehouse in a deserted forest just outside of Iron Town with a simple task of taking out a transporter and taking back a box that was stolen from the guardians. All in a day’s work for someone like me. A professional hunter whose services go to the ones who can afford it. What a joke of a life scoffed my conscience. Every time. Every damn time. What kind of pro killer wrestles with her own conscience every time she’s on the job? I was pretty sure there’s only one. Despite all this, I was good at what I do and have never failed. So why was it that that I was lying in dirt with my eyes behind the scope swearing in my head? It’s that guy they hired, the opposing team’s ace player. I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the guy’s face.

Sure, I was told that someone really good was hired to protect the transporter but I heard that every mission. Too cocky my subconscious spat. Being in the business of having people’s blood on my hands for such a long time, every thought was directed solely at the task. It didn’t matter who I was up against as long as I get it all done by the allocated time.

That guy. He moved as if he could read my mind. Like he knew what I was going to do before I could even think of it. Three steps ahead for each of mine. It was like a lethal dance. It was certainly lively with plenty of metal confetti. Swift. Graceful. It took my breath away attempting to catch up. I felt like a silly girl in the arms of a debonair whirling aimlessly. Oh so you like him now?! was my horrified thought’s words. This guy was good. An artist of bullets and his canvas was the body.

Thirty minutes just before I found herself face down in the dirt, snaking my way behind the stack of dilapidate crates; I was calmly sitting in the quiet mezzanine looking up at the rotting roof with a flask of whisky perched on my hip belt, playing with trivial thoughts in my mind as Moro, the boss, confirmed her orders to me on the satellite phone. “Take back what’s Eboshi stole from us,” she begun. “The content of that box is very important and must not reach Iron Town. Return it to us and our land will be saved.” Immediately after, Moro hung up. With the approaching sounds of engines, my hand automatically dropped the phone and moved to the sniper beside me and the rest of me followed in position the moment my senses picked up the target.

There it was. Just as I was told. The complacent caravan of black sedans spearheaded and tailed by two tanks was slowly driving, just about to drive past where I was aiming from. Get the box then get out. And everyone seemed to be making my job so easy.

One by one, I shot at the occupants of the vehicles from their open windows. No one can really blame having open windows at that heat. I certainly wouldn’t. I would have probably done the same thing. A low, quiet whistle passed through my lightly parched lips as I mouthed “easy pickings”. Screeching and the sounds of metals colliding and folding on each other filled the air along with groans of agony from the occupants of the dilapidated caravan as they reach death. There were even a few little explosions.

With a swig of whisky and rifle in hand, I slid down from where I was perched with ease and moved towards the container with swagger of a job well done.

As my hand reached for the box inside a heavily armored flaming car, a familiar clink filled my ears. I raised my weapon just as fast towards the source of the sound.

▬▬▬
But in the end, instead of a quick, quiet afternoon of gunfire in the humid forest, I was caught with no escape behind the accursed crates. I weighed my options and thought this was probably the best I could do at this point.

“H-HEY!” I shouted. “I’m coming out! Don’t shoot!”

Slowly, the head of my rifle silently emerged followed by my foot and a leg and thigh and then rest of me. I inched my way out and stopped from the other side of targeted car which crashed into half of the crates earlier. If I was quick enough, I thought, I’d be able to reach in to the opened door on my side and drag out the box we all sought after.

A soft but firm “Don’t even think about it,” came from the man who stood barely a meter away from me.

I let out a comical smile as I held the sniper with one arm. Like I said, three moves ahead, sighed my own mind. However, I couldn’t help but look my opponent up and down as my own mind contradicted itself.

“Well, damn. You look nice”, was the first thing that came out of my mouth.

Indeed, the man looked nice. He was very tidy for someone who’d been running around and shooting a girl for the last half an hour or so. The slick, black suit on him was obviously tailored, much like his own weapon. I was pretty sure I saw that gun in the latest issue of Guns & Ammos. If we had met at a different place at a different time, I thought, I might have enjoyed his company.

Cautious fingers slithered down to my side as I reached for my flask, “If I’m gonna die here now anyway,” I breathed out after taking a deep drink. “You might as well tell me your name”.

The man stood silent for a moment, reluctant to answer. He kept his gun’s aim square at my head the whole time as I continued to drink. I kept a close eye on him from the corner of my flask as his mouth slowly opened a few times as if calculating every possible consequence his words might bring.

Ultimately he replied, “Ashitaka”.

“Never heard that name before,” I ate most of my words as I took the last drop of my drink.

Quickly, I tossed away my flask and grabbed the box. But not as quick as Ashitaka’s bullets that went flying to the package in my arms. The flesh wounds from the bullets stung enough that made me drop the load I was carrying.

The impact with the floor caused the box to shatter, and its content along with it. A long string of clicks followed by strong wailing filled the dry air. Where the box had shatter stood a child with golden hair, tears streaming down its face with a cry that can shatter glass. Both Ashitaka and I were left stunned and alarmed as we inched towards the third entity. The moment we got close enough to the child, it has decreased its crying to a stifled sob.

With giant, tear filled eyes, it looked at both Ashitaka and I with quivering lips and babbled “Maaa maaa! Paaa paaa!”

▬▬▬
“And this is the origins of Kodama,” said the silver haired twins in unison with a clearly mocking smile that exposed their fangs and widened eyes as they slowly strolled down the path near an abandoned warehouse. “That’s why San became even more of an alcoholic and Ashitaka likes to go away for a long, long time”.

“NOOOOOO! LIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEES!!!!!” screamed Kodama as he fled ahead filled with tears from the lush forest outside of what was Iron Town where his uncles Taro and Jiro were telling him of the story of when he was born.

Taro and Jiro simply laughed in the distance as Kodama ran away and cried.

The End